


A Date with the Queen

by Joel7th



Series: The Dark Lord’s Pet [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, M/M, Sexual Content, some strong language, spoilers of season 3 of Castlevania and CAOS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joel7th/pseuds/Joel7th
Summary: “Your punishment,” the Dark Lord said, “is to join me for a bath. After that, you will put on some nice clothes and go on a date with my daughter.”At the Dark Lord’s request, Hector went on a date with Sabrina.Sequel to A Deal with the Devil. Self-indulgent fic.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar/Hector (Castlevania), The Dark Lord | Satan (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Hector (Castlevania)
Series: The Dark Lord’s Pet [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755202
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	A Date with the Queen

Hector was pretty confident that by now he had already gotten used to many, if not all, of the Dark Lord’s antics.

Anal. Oral. Asphyxiation. Object insertion. Double penetration. Deprivation of one sense or all. Voyeurism. Bondage. Pain kinks. Domination and submission. Knife play. Blood play. Bestiality. That one time the Dark Lord, in his Baphomet form, took him in a circle drawn in blood while his worshippers knelt around and sang the Satanic hymn. By the time he was done with him, Hector had been so lost in euphoria that he deemed all those gawkers around him no different than the unmoving idols in the Church of Night. That one time the Dark Lord allowed him to sit on his laps and proceeded to ravish him right on his throne of skulls for any wandering demon’s eyes to feast on. By the time he finished, Hector clung to the Dark Lord’s neck with trembling arms while he was carried back to his bedchamber, same as when he had been brought out.

The demons of all Nine Realms called Lilith “Lucifer’s Whore” to demean her; however, few, if any, knew the truth it was actually his “Pet” that had been warming his bed, literally and figuratively, since he signed away his soul to the Ruler of Hell. Truth be told, while Hector wasn’t keen on any boorish demon learning of his status, he wasn’t ashamed if any of them did, either. It had been his choice — the wisest he’d made in a midst of wrong decisions which had plagued his relatively short life, and shame became irrelevant when he’d had hundreds of years to make peace with it, get accustomed to it. Now if any wretched soul felt the urge to degrade him because of his servitude to the Dark Lord, Hector would simply smile, take a step back and watch them being rendered to ash faster than he could sing “Hail Satan.” It wasn’t his dignity that was the Dark Lord’s concern — Hector had no hallucination about being regarded as anything more than a pampered pet; it was just Lucifer did not take too kindly to any nosing into his private affairs. In that aspect, he considered the Dark Lord a far better master than Lenore had ever been. Lenore who had never wasted a chance to remind any breathing thing in the vicinity that he was her property, who must have been convinced that constantly stomping his last shred of dignity enhanced her ownership over him. How he loathed her for that.

Another sharp thrust into him scattered his stray thoughts as if to remind him that musing about his former tormentor while having his current master inside him was a grievous sin. His breath hitched and Hector had to bite his lower lip to prevent a sound from escaping his mouth. Not a sound, he reminded himself, repeated it like a mantra in his head; he was to stay mute throughout whatever being done to him. Hector prided himself on his tolerance, having gained ample experience in his service to the Dark Lord, but tonight it seemed particularly difficult with his punishing thrusts. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had somehow enraged him, like greeting his daughter — the newly crowned Queen of Hell no less — in a sorry underdressed state, or failing to give him a proper welcome when he returned. Hector squashed these thoughts as soon as they took shape in his head; the Dark Lord was magnanimous and so far he had been mostly lenient with Hector, even during his first days. Forgetting to add “Dark Lord” to his sentences, for example. Letting his mouth run off when he wasn’t supposed to. Allowing his sarcasm to get the better of him. A litany of fumbling mistakes which would have guaranteed a couple cracked bones if he had been under the Styrian sisters’ reign had only earned him a proverbial slap on the wrist and a literal roll in the sheets. It would be uncharacteristic of him to punish Hector for matters he had little control over.

“You seem distracted,” Lucifer whispered into the crook of his neck, the timbre of his voice vibrating through his skin and tendons. “Care to share what is on your mind?” A thrust of his hips for punctuation. Hector munched his lips, goosebumps raising on his sweaty skin, glistening in the light of a dozen candles. “Ah, right.” Lucifer smiled devilishly, tapping his forefinger at Hector’s parted lips. “Not a sound. I almost forgot.”

Hector pouted at him and took his finger into his mouth. He sucked lightly at the tip, then swept his tongue along its length, tasting salt and fire and smoke, and scraped his teeth against the deceptively thin skin. The Dark Lord had the hands of a pianist, with long, lean fingers he could use to either snap Hector’s neck like a small twig or drive him to the edge of the precipice, and tip him over to plunge headfirst into the sea of pleasure, occasionally both at the same time. He imagined biting down on the digit, severing skin and sinews from bone. Would he get mad and punish him, Hector wondered. Would he get even harder and his thrusts grew even stronger, faster?

Hector had no chance of putting his theory to test because the Dark Lord removed his finger from his mouth with a knowing smile. Grabbing Hector’s pelvis with both hands, blunt nails marking his skin with pink welts, he pushed into him before lifting him up so that Hector sat astride his laps, their joined flesh not once getting disconnected. The new position allowed the Dark Lord to penetrate even deeper into him, and Hector had to put his arms on his shoulders for support. As a surge of pleasure shot up his spine, he sucked in a cold breath, feeling warmth pooling around the rims of his eyes, which turned into tears to roll down his cheeks.

“Are you crying, Child?” the Dark Lord asked, peppering open-mouthed kisses on his throat and the hollow between his clavicles. “Are they tears of joy or of pain? Both?”

His teeth found a spot on his Adam’s apple and began to worry the delicate skin there. The sudden pain nearly caused him to let out a gasp. Hector shook his head to shake away his tears and muffled his gasps, moans and any traitorous sound threatening to escape his lips by clamping his teeth down the side of the Dark Lord’s neck, dangerously close to his carotid artery if he were human. Was this how vampires chow down their food? He smiled against hot skin to feel the mighty Dark Lord flinch, the motion all but imperceptible if they were not glued together chest-to-chest. There would be Hell to pay but for now, Hector could not help a sense of triumph expanding in his chest.

“That was a risky move, Child,” the Dark Lord commented, running his fingers through sweat-damped silver hair and messaging Hector’s scalp like he often did outside fornication. Nevertheless, Hector could feel a sliver of pressure pressing down his scalp and a light sting at his roots, producing sparks behind his closed eyelids, when the Dark Lord twisted his strands. Unsure if he should interpret this gesture as a teasing or a warning, Hector chose to play the stubborn pet and bit harder into unyielding flesh.

That turned out to be a wise move on his part because the next thing he knew was a chilling hand wrapping around his cock. Coldness was the last thing Hector would associate with the Dark Lord, who had Hellfire running in his veins, but how else was he supposed to explain this sensation enveloping his most sensitive part? Cold fingers as if they had been dipped in ice stroke his shaft a few times before coming to rest at the base, squeezing it. Inside him the Dark Lord’s flesh remained a hot pillar as he resumed his pace, his hand never leaving Hector’s hair. Caught between two extremes, Hector started to lose bits and bits of himself in the onslaught of pleasure, until he had one foot over the thin line separating his body and his climax. One nudge and he would tip over. Just one... and yet it didn’t come.

“Are you close?” he heard the Dark Lord ask. Eyes shut and teeth gritting, he grudging nodded.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and Hector had no choice but to force his eyes open. His heart almost leapt to his throat at the sight of Hellfire raging in the Dark Lord’s pupils. It was not the first time Hector had seen fire in his eyes; however, like every other time, the fire reached into his soul and shook him to the core. He supposed it was because it was the same fire which had burnt countless unfortunate souls to cinder.

“You know you will not come until I give you permission. Now, open your pretty mouth and let me hear you beg.”

His thumb caressed the seam of Hector’s lips. In reply Hector mouthed a “no”.

“No?” the Dark Lord laughed. “Perhaps I should not have indulged you too much. You and Sabrina, obstinate and spoiled little children who just will not listen to me. I only have myself to blame.”

Hector swallowed a choked cry when his world turned upside down for a split second and he was flipped onto his stomach. His hips were raised by strong cold hands, which held fast onto them as the Dark Lord forsook his finesse and started pounding into him with something akin to brutality. There were surely some hideous bruises on his hips and elsewhere afterwards but Hector couldn’t bring himself to care. The Dark Lord would take care of them, take care of him; he always did. He bit into his knuckles to forbid any sound. He felt the Dark Lord’s taut abdominals at the small of his back and his fiery breath at the nape of his neck, which turned cool on his sweat-soaked, feverish skin.

“Come for me, Child.”

Right after he heard his order, there was a wet lick at the shell of his ear. Hector’s eyes widened and a cry tore itself out of his tight lips as he came, spilling his seed over his stomach and the mattress while fresh tears wetted the sides of his face. With a satisfied smile clinging to the corners of his mouth, the Dark Lord leaned down to lap at his tears with a forked tongue, long and serpentine and the very reason for his coming undone. When he finally came, hot lava erupting inside Hector, he bit the flesh at his nape and Hector, basked in the glow of his aftermath, was mildly surprised that he felt no pain, only a spike of ecstasy.

The Dark Lord turned him around and immediately Hector nestled against his body, leeching off infernal heat from his skin.

“You almost won, until a snake’s tongue proved to be your downfall. Alas, human after all.” The Dark Lord chuckled.

“I lost,” Hector admitted — when had he ever won? Drowsiness weighed down his eyelids and it took all his will to keep his eyes open because he knew he shouldn’t fall asleep without the Dark Lord’s permission. “What is my punishment?”

“You almost sound eager to receive your punishment even though you have no idea what it is. It could be something so horrible you will regret you have not asked what it is first.”

He simply couldn’t say he was eager to get it over with so he could sleep, could he? Anyway Hector was convinced the Dark Lord might have already plucked it from his mind. “I’m exhausted and sleep is very tempting right now.” He opted for honesty.

The Dark Lord smiled and ruffled his hair. “You sleep too much. Sloth is one of the Seven Deadly Sins, you know.”

Hector craned his neck to look at him with widened eyes. “But you have not once chastised me for it.”

“I have not, although I would like you to be a little more active. Get out of this chamber and get some sunlight, for example. Did you not love the Sun when you were mortal?”

Hector’s face sported a comically incredulous look. “Sunlight?” he echoed. “The Sun in Hell?”

“That is why you should get out more. As for your ‘punishment’...”

The Dark Lord snapped his fingers. At his beckon, several figures in black materialized, forming a line against the wall. Hector blinked and squinted his eyes at them, who were clad in black robes that covered their entire bodies save their pallid faces with their eyes and mouths crudely sewn shut. Although theirs was a grotesque sight, he knew these Hell Servants to be the most benign demons in Hell, whose sole purpose was to cater to the Dark Lord’s personal needs. This was not the first time Hector had seen them in this chamber. Wordlessly the Hell Servants pulled a huge clawfoot bathtub out of thin air and began filling it with steaming water from decorated vessels that had also appeared out of nowhere. A sweet perfumed waft tickled his nostrils.

“Your punishment,” the Dark Lord said, “is to join me for a bath. After that, you will put on some nice clothes and go on a date with my daughter.”

Hector stared owlishly at him, his mouth parted but no word was formed. He was certain he had no trouble with hearing, but it seemed just now his sense had played trick on him. Go on a date with his daughter, the one and only Queen of Hell, the Dark Lord could not be serious, right?

“Now now, stop gawking at me as if I have grown another head, Child,” the Dark Lord chided, not harshly. “I ask you to go on a date with Sabrina but it is not romantic in nature. Remember that I asked you to befriend her when I brought her here?”

Hector blinked as realization started dawning on him. “Why? I’m grateful that you thought highly of me, Dark Lord, but I’m not exactly a good candidate to offer companionship and friendship to a young maiden.”

Not to mention his awful experiences with the opposite sex, but Hector trusted the Dark Lord had already known.

“The best candidate I can think of in the entire Pandemonium. Your humanity is just what she needs, given she is half-mortal. As I have told her, a human connection will likely benefit both of you, or do you doubt my judgment?”

“I do not dare, Dark Lord” was his quick reply, and Hector was rewarded with a soft kiss on his lips, which startled him. The Dark Lord might bed him on a nightly basis but a kiss on the lips was something he had to earn, a reward given when Hector pleased him. “Very good, Child,” the Dark Lord said. Another peck because he was in a generous mood. “Let us bathe and then we shall pick a proper outfit for you. I cannot tolerate your looking sloppy in front of my dear daughter.”

_TBC_

**Author's Note:**

> There I go again with self-indulgent fics. This one is a direct sequel to my other Lucifer/Hector fic (strange pair, I know). This story wasn’t planned but after A Deal with the Devil was posted and received some positive comments (I can’t thank you enough), an idea came and it’d be a waste to let it go so.


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